


The Hexarcana

by Belle_Elegant



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Deadlands (Roleplaying Game), Professional Wrestling
Genre: Adam Page Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Western, Harrowed, Monsters, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Undead, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle_Elegant/pseuds/Belle_Elegant
Summary: In 1863, a vengeful warband called the Last Sons unleashed the evil spirits upon humanity, and nothing has been the same since.  The American Civil War rages on, neither side able to establish a clear advantage. Most of California has fallen into the sea. The Sioux Nations have reclaimed the Dakotas. And the dead walk among us.20 years later, the Elite have kicked Adam Page out after he betrayed them to their rivals. However, Kenny isn't one to hold a grudge, especially if he can use Adam's help to track down an incredibly dangerous relic that will either help them stand against the monsters that stalk the land.Or turn Kenny into the biggest threat to them all.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. "Some of us are destined to be outlived."

Adam Page took a long pull off the whiskey bottle as he staggered forward, his boot heel catching on a jagged chunk of rock. The dome of billions of stars blazed high overhead, their light exceptional with no competition from moon or clouds. Lowering the bottle, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He had no destination in mind but it seemed like something he should be doing. The deadlands spread around him for countless miles in all directions. The direction he was walking in had been chosen at random. One was as good as another this far away from any sort of civilization.

Somewhere a coyote called out, its voice clear as a bell in the stillness. He couldn't tell how far away it was though. The dry, thin air made judging distances tricky. It could have been miles away for all he knew. But the sound was reassuring considering there were other things out there in the wild, _bad_ things. Things that would go out of its way to kill a man, or worse. But Adam was past caring. He took another swig. He thought about answering the coyotes. But in the end he decided the coyotes hadn't done anything to him. Unless they had killed and eaten a toddler, they didn't deserve his singing.

“ _Sorry Hangman. But you're one of those destined to be outlived.”_

Dax and Cash had left him alone out there. He tried to wrap his head around the _why_ _hadn't he seen that coming_ of it. But deep down he knew. Kenny had told him once that self-deception was his special power. At the time he'd convinced himself Kenny was wrong, but nope, Kenny knew what he was talking about, as usual.

The problem was that he'd thought he had a lot in common with Dax and Cash; they were from the same area of the Confederacy, even knew some of the same people. He'd honestly thought they might be friends, or at least better friends than the Bucks. But, as it turned out, he was wrong. The Bucks hadn't been there for him, but Dax and Cash had actively used him until they got what they needed. Then they left, taking his horse, saddle and everything else, except his bottle of whiskey and the loose bit of rope Dax had mockingly placed around his neck. “ _Just in case”._ Joke was on Dax though, there was only scrub brush, nothing that were big enough to hold he weight long enough to strangle himself.

It wasn't the first time he'd been wrong about people but he had to admit this one actually hurt. Mostly because they'd asked him to betray the Bucks. And he did, reluctantly but in the end it was his choice to go through with it. He took another swig and squinted at the stars swing lazily in his field of vision. He concluded he was drunk.

Good. That had been his goal.

Where was he even walking to anyway? He knew there was nothing out here in the deadlands to save him. Nothing except death. There was always death. He deserved it for what he'd done. His sluggish mind chewed the past few days over but eventually he gave up thinking about it. He kept walking though, mostly to stay warm. One step, then another, and another, not necessarily in a straight line. The ground beneath his boots rose gradually and he stumbled more than once. When the sun rose, if by some miracle he wasn't found by one of the local inhabitants before that, he still had nowhere to go. So why was he even bothering?

Somewhere in the distance behind him there was a low growling, like rocks sliding down into a deep ravine. He breathed out. Something had found his trail. It was big, whatever it was. He shivered in the cold air. At least the whiskey warmed him on the inside. He finally came to the top of the long, gradual slope and stopped. The distant horizon was visible as an uninterrupted absence of stars. He judged it was a pretty good as far as last views went. His legs folded underneath him and he sat down, bracing his elbows against his knees, the half empty bottle dangled from his fingertips.

Adam craned his neck and looked up and around, locating the North Star. He mentally calculated how many more hours until dawn. Too long, he decided. He'd seen his last sunrise already. What was behind him wouldn't let him see another. The holster on his hip was empty, Dax had relieved him of his weapons a lifetime ago.

He took a deep drink, determined to drain the bottle's last drops before it found him. No need to waste any whiskey on what was coming for him. It was the only thing that made him _feel_ anything, even if what he felt was self-loathing. He finally lowered the empty bottle and set it on the ground beside him. He lay back, folded his hands behind his head and gazed up at the endless sea of stars. He couldn't say it had been a good run but he could say he was glad it was over. He smiled to himself. No one would miss him but that didn't bother him either.

Whatever it was was taking its own sweet time but it would be coming. He closed his eyes and let the whiskey pull him down into darkness. He was still smiling as his breathing deepened, and he fell asleep.

TBC


	2. You're Left With Me 'Cause You Left Me No Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Against his will, Adam is rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiss316 is back as my beta reader!! Whoohoo!

_You're Left With Me 'Cause You Left Me No Choice_

“Adam Page, what the hell are you thinking, sleeping out here?”

The demand pierced the darkness that blanketed him. Adam didn't want to react, didn't want to wake up. Was it asking too much to be left alone to be eaten by some unspeakable horror in peace? He had fallen asleep expecting to never wake up, and didn't appreciate any derailment of that plan. But his life had always been about not-met expectations. He should know that by now. However, he refused to acknowledge the demand without a fight. He turned over onto his side, facing away from the voice in a clear posture of _Leave me the fuck alone_.

Of course the person yelling at him didn't get the message. “Adam, I know you can hear me. Wake up! There are things that need doing.”

Christ. It was as if his dad had come back to haunt him. And that was something that Adam was still getting used to: the dead didn't sleep easy anymore since _that_ happened. He peeled his eyes open to make sure it wasn’t his dad’s reanimated corpse. The sun was just clearing the horizon, shining right into his face, sending daggers of pain through his skull. He gave up and groaned, covering his face with his hat. “lemme 'lone,” he slurred.

“Fucking hell, are you drunk?”

Well

Yes

He heard the bottle being kicked aside. He frowned at the assault on his alcohol, but remembered he'd emptied the bottle earlier so it wasn't that big of deal.

“Fine.” The person heaved a deep sigh then muttered something. In his stupor, Adam felt a slight change in air pressure in his ears. Then a strong hand grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him up off the ground into a sitting position. His hat fell off and Adam squeezed his eyes closed. He put his hands up to his face in some misguided effort to keep his brains from leaking out of his ears. The world spun around him. He swallowed thickly.

“Here, drink this,” the voice commanded, the sound driving a spike of pain right through his forehead.

What was worse though, was now he recognized the voice. _Why'd it have to be him?_ he complained inside his skull. The one person Adam was too humiliated to want to see, ever again. He felt a canteen pushing against his hands and took it without opening his eyes. He raised the spout to his mouth and took a drink. His eyes opened wide when he tasted the _coffin varnish_ liquid and he immediately tried to throw the canteen and its contents away from him.

“Oh no you don't!” His rescuer grabbed the canteen in one hand and a handful of Adam's hair in the other. The canteen was forced back into Adam’s mouth and liquid poured down his throat. Adam fought but it was no use, Kenny was too strong. He had to swallow several mouthfuls of the vile stuff before Kenny would release his grip on Adam’s hair.

The coffee Kenny sometimes drank was so foul Matt had labeled it coffin varnish. But despite the taste, or maybe because of it, it could instantly sober up anybody, not matter how drunk. Not that Kenny ever drank alcohol. The coffee was also strong enough to keep a person wide awake for entire twenty-four hours.

Kenny sat back on his heels, holding the canteen and watching Adam cough and gag without sympathy. “Sober?” he asked, his tone was both exasperated and annoyed. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, as usual. His revolver rested in the holster on his right hip, not that he needed it. Kenny Omega was probably the most dangerous person Adam had ever met, with or without a gun.

Finally clearing his airways, Adam glared at Kenny, “Yes, damn you! Do you know how much I had to drink to get that drunk? And now it’s just wasted!” Adam stood up and dusted himself off in a pathetic attempt at dignity and at the same time putting some space between himself and Kenny Omega, his rescuer, his former partner, his what? Friend? Who the hell knew what Kenny thought of Adam these days? He hoped his expression would hide his pounding pulse and his feelings of inadequacy. Kenny always had that effect on him no matter how long Adam had rode with him. “And what is with you? Everyone else drinks water, like sane people!”

“Water wasn’t going to get you sober,” Kenny said, not answering the question as usual. He drank down the last of the coffee himself and screwed the lid back on the empty canteen.

“I didn’t want to be sober!” Adam shot back. “That was the point of drinking the whole bottle. Seriously, and why do you have a canteen of that shit? Are there more innocent drunks out here in the desert that you need to assault?” he asked with bitter sarcasm.

“No, just you,” Kenny answered mildly. “I knew as soon as I heard about what happened with you and the Bucks that this is how you’d end up.”

Adam flinched. Kenny never pulled his verbal punches. “Is that what you’re doing out here? You came to rescue me from myself?” he asked. Kenny hadn’t been involved in Adam’s betrayal. Kenny hadn’t been there when Matt and Nick kicked him out of the Elite. Unable to look at Kenny any longer, Adam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked around for his hat. “What if I didn’t want to be rescued? Ever think about that?”

Not bothered in the slightest, Kenny shrugged. “No.” He rose to his feet, all lithe grace that always made Adam feel clumsy. He brushed past Adam to where the horses were waiting, ground tied about ten feet away. “Now get your ass in the saddle and let's get the hell out of here.”

Adam gaped. “You brought Hunter?” he asked, moving to take up the reins of his stocky bay gelding, rubbing the horse’s roman nose. The horse, full name Hunter Horse Helmsley, sniffed his jacket expectantly. “Sorry boy,” he said. “You have to wait until we get back.”

Beside him, Kenny mounted up on his own horse. A big, deep-chested animal, gray as a ghost with eyes, mane and tail the color of coal. She stood over seventeen hands tall, but had no trace of draft blood. The horse was lean as a race horse with a high, arching neck. Kenny never said exactly where he got her, despite being asked repeatedly by everyone who laid eyes on her. She was absolutely gorgeous, and Kenny decked her out in matching saddle and bridle of glossy deep red leather, which always reminded Adam of blood. There was the handle of the Elite's signature sword sticking out of the saddle scabbard instead of a shotgun or rifle. While it was the West and everyone had guns, it was still wise to have some other type of weapon for backup. Swords didn’t run out of bullets.

And there were _things_ that bullets couldn't kill. Mostly because they were no longer technically alive. Adam's saddle scabbard was empty. His own sword, a twin of Kenny's, had been taken by Dax and Cash. Adam hadn't been able to stop them.

“Ran into Dax and Cash while they were on their way out of the wastelands,” Kenny was saying, pretending not to see Adam look away. “They bragged about leaving you out here. Then they asked me to bring you your trusty steed. Even gave me directions to find you. Oh, and they gave me this to give you as well.” Kenny reached into his saddlebag and pulled out Adam's stolen sword. He handed it over to Adam without comment.

Ashamed, Adam slipped it back into the scabbard. “And you came all the way out here to find me? What were you thinking? You could have gotten killed.” Adam swung up into the saddle. He settled into the seat and adjusted his hat to keep the sun off his eyes.

“That was their plan. But unlike you, I never fell for their bullshit. Plus, I had some backup.”

Of course Kenny had made it sound like it had been a cakewalk. But now that he was sober, Adam found he wasn’t unhappy that Kenny had come for him. Kenny must have ridden all night through the wastelands, which would have been insane for anyone who wasn't named Kenny Omega.

Kenny turned the mare to the south, but didn’t set out just yet. He was frowning at the horizon as the sun continued to clear the horizon. Adam followed suit. He didn’t see anything, but that meant nothing. For long, slow seconds there was nothing but the sound of the light wind in their ears and the sight of vast emptiness dotted with scrub brush and bare hills. At the same time, he was thinking about what Kenny had said. He wondered what he meant by 'backup'. Kenny was alone when he woke up Adam. There was movement in the distance below a large, dun-colored mound. Adam sat up and leaned forward in an unconscious effort to see it better.

“Coyotes,” Kenny told him. There was a neutral tone in his voice that told Adam that Kenny was hiding something. “There's enough carrion to keep them busy for a while.”

As soon as Kenny said that, Adam’s eyes widened. The mound wasn’t a small hill. “That’s a Mojave Rattler!” he said. The giant sand worm looked like it weighed in at about fifty tons, which would have put it on the smaller side. The biggest ones were said to weigh over three hundred tons. Except they weren’t worms, not really. They were old gods, reduced to that form when the Reckoners took their place.

“Was, it’s dead,” Kenny told him. He finally cued the mare to start walking. The course he was setting was going to take them wide around the Rattler’s corpse. Even dead, a Rattler was not something to mess with.

Adam nudged Hunter alongside them but his gaze was continually drawn to the dead god. Even at a distance, the sight was terrifying. He half expected it to come back to life at any time. “How were you able to kill a Rattler?” he asked. He barely remembered earlier in the deep of night, when he’d heard something in the distance behind him. His mouth was dry when he realized now what it was. Getting killed by a Mojave Rattler was probably the worst way to die, when it finally got around to killing you. He was now even more in debt to Kenny that ever before.

“The Power of Love,” Kenny said sarcastically. He signaled the mare to speed up.

Annoyed, Adam spurred Hunter to do the same. He kept glancing around, trying to spot anything that appeared to be a threat. The hair on the back of his neck refused to lay down. They were being watched, but whatever was watching them didn’t show itself. And the wastelands remained quiet. The corpse of the great worm remained in sight for a long time, but eventually they passed around a low hill that hid it from view for good.

They rode a few more miles before Kenny reined the mare back to a walk. Adam followed suit, noting proudly that Hunter wasn’t breathing heavily at all. He moved Hunter up to ride beside Kenny. “This isn't the way out of the wastelands. Where are we going?” he asked bluntly. He knew from experience that Kenny wasn't always forthcoming with information.

“I've got some business further in,” Kenny told him.

“Did you rescue me because I just happened to be on your way?” Adam felt a stab of insecurity.

“Do you really think so little of me that I would just leave you out here to die, Adam Page?” Kenny's patience was running thin, but he made an attempt. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “If that's the case, then why don't you turn around and go back to where I found you?”

But Kenny wasn't looking at Adam and kept the mare a few steps ahead of Adam's horse so Adam couldn't get a good look at his expression. That was a big red flag right there. As usual, he ignored it. “Maybe I should. I was never good enough for the Elite anyway.” He hated how whiny he sounded. But it was true. He always felt like an afterthought to the group.

“Not this again. Get it through your thick skull: we wouldn't have recruited you if we didn't think you were good enough! Christ almighty!” Kenny bit back what he was going to say next. Instead he said, “Yes, I was already planning to come out here. No I didn't rescue you just because it was convenient. I rescued you because you needed it. And you're one of the only partners I've had that's actually useful. Especially now that Ibushi is out of the picture.”

“What happened to Kota Ibushi? Did you break up?” Adam asked, not bothering to hide his bitterness. Kenny and Ibushi had been very close in the past, not that Adam was jealous or anything. Adam had always felt that Kenny had been comparing him to Ibushi every time they rode together, and he never quite measured up. That made him feel inferior to both Kenny and Ibushi and Adam resented _that_ more than anything.

“He's dead,” Kenny said, his voice clipped.

Shit. This just got even more awkward. “Oh,” Adam said, lamely. “What happened?”

“We ran into a Mojave Rattler trying to rescue an ungrateful drunk.” _Now_ Adam could hear the grief and fury. Kenny was usually an expert at hiding his feelings from Adam, but he couldn't hide this. Ibushi's death was too close, too raw.

Adam sat back in the saddle, feeling like Kenny had slugged him across the jaw. No wonder Kenny looked exhausted. He'd just lost his best friend _lover?_ trying to rescue Adam. Adam was truly feeling like the idiot Kenny said he was. If Kenny hadn't hated him before, he surely must now. Underneath him, Hunter stopped at his unconscious cue. Adam fumbled for something to say, then gave up. He turned Hunter away from Kenny, intending to set off on his own. He couldn't stay with Kenny, not if Kenny blamed him for Ibushi's death. Adam could barely stand to ride with Kenny when Ibushi was alive, it would be unbearable trying to live with Kenny while being compared to a ghost.

“Where the fuck do you think you're going?” Kenny stopped the mare and turned toward him, eyes still hidden.

“I'm..” Adam started but Kenny's mare moved too fast and they were alongside Adam and Hunter before he could react.

“If you think that you're just going to ride off after what I went through to get you, then all that alcohol really has pickled your brains,” Kenny's face was so close to Adam's that all he could see his reflection in the dark glasses. Then Kenny ripped the glasses of his face and Adam swallowed hard. The rage that burned in Kenny's eyes scared him shitless. He'd known Kenny for several years now. And sometimes, Kenny could be an absolute bastard. But this look wasn't exactly...sane.

Kenny grabbed the rope around Adam's neck and pulled him closer. “Ibushi gave his life to help rescue you. So while you're my partner, you're going to act like it. Got it? No more sneaking off to get drunk, no more stabbing anyone in the back, none of that! You can crawl back into your bottle after we finish this, if you're still alive.”

Wide-eyed, Adam nodded and Kenny released him. He turned the mare away and took a deep breath, shaking his mane of curls out of his face. With a steady hand, Kenny put his glasses back on and cued the mare to walk again. “I don't want you to die, Adam. You were a good partner until you went and pulled that shit with the Bucks. God knows I still trust you, despite what you did to them. But goddamn it, you make it hard some days. And get rid of that rope, it looks stupid.”

Pulling the rope off and dropping it to the ground, Adam followed him. “Will he...? Do we need to go back?” he asked hesitantly. Kenny wasn't often that open, that _honest_ with his feelings. But when he was, it left Adam breathless.

“No,” Kenny said. “He's dead, and will stay that way. I made sure his spirit has moved past the Hunting Grounds.”

Adam nodded in relief. “So what do you need me for?” he asked. Changing the subject felt like the best course of action.

“Got a lead on a major relic. I think it’s legit,” Kenny said. He too seemed to prefer to talk about something else.

“Holy shit, for real?” Adam breathed.

“Yes, for real. So I need you to have my back. The Inner Circle might be involved and if so, things could get nasty.” Kenny's smile was a brief tightening of the corners of his mouth. Even with the dark glasses and the coffin varnish, he looked desperately tired.

Adam sat up straight as he moved Hunter up to ride beside Kenny. A relic, a real one, was an object of incredible power. Maybe enough power to drive back and get rid of the abominations and the undead that plagued humanity. To give hope and to reduce the fear that the Reckoners fed on. In the right hands, it might be enough to challenge the Reckoners themselves.

In the wrong hands, well, it didn't really matter. Hell was already on Earth.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its only chapter 2 and of course I have already started killing off wrestlers.


	3. You Refused To Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny and Adam wait for company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to my awesome beta reader Kiss316!!!

_I couldn't face a life without your light_

_But all of that was ripped apart when you refused to fight_

They rode until the sun was almost directly overhead. The terrain was still low rolling hills, dotted with the occasional scrub brush carcass and chunks of granite of various sizes, but completely bare of anything green. The sun was nearly unbearable in the washed-out sky and Adam was grateful for his hat. He was also very conscious of not having consumed anything for over a day except for alcohol and a few swallows of coffin varnish. His mouth was dry but his shirt was damp. Under him, Hunter was sweating profusely, the gelding's neck was lathered where the reins rubbed against him. They would need to find shelter soon.

Adam said as much to Kenny. “We're going to bake if we don't get out of the sun.” He kept his voice low. Where there was one Rattler, there would be others. Kenny might be able to take on another one, but the odds were never very good and that far in, any Rattler they ran into would be much, much larger than the one Kenny killed earlier. Adam was very strong but didn't have Kenny's experience. Better not tempt fate just then.

“We're almost there,” Kenny assured him, equally quiet. While the heat and sun didn't seem to bother him as much, his hair was damp, droplets of sweat were running down his temples and his shoulders were slumped. He cued his mare to speed up to a jog. There was no sweat on her gray hide. Hunter followed her without Adam's encouragement, like always. After a little while Kenny abruptly pulled the mare to a halt, right at the edge of a deep, hidden ravine and Adam had to rein Hunter sharply to avoid colliding with them. He bit back a blistering comment about it.

Taking no notice of Adam's annoyance, Kenny sat perfectly still for several seconds. The silence was oppressive. Then the air pressure changed again, and Kenny exhaled, leaning over the saddle horn for a moment. Then he collected himself and nudged the mare to go forward into the ravine. He allowed her to pick her way down the steep side. She slipped and slid through the loose dirt and rock but kept her feet under her.

Above, Adam waited until Kenny signaled the all-clear. He looked back just to make sure they hadn't been followed. Their trail was disappearing even as he watched, and soon it looked as if nothing had come that way in years. Even as tired as he was, Kenny thought of everything. Satisfied, Adam guided Hunter down. Once, the ravine had been the bed of a mighty river, but since _that_ happened, the river had dried up. In the shelter of the bank's overhang, Adam felt better. The oppressive, watched feeling had finally eased up. The ravine was littered with skeletons of various animals, probably from being caught in a flash flood. Then he saw the human skulls and looked away.

They walked the horses along the bottom of the ravine, keeping to one side to stay in the meager shade, the light wind sighed above them. Eventually they came to a sharp bend. Behind the bend was a hidden opening which led to a shallow cave, big enough to bring the horses inside with them. They dismounted and Kenny gestured for Adam to go on in. Adam led Hunter in, being careful of where he placed his feet and listening for a distinct buzz. Rattlesnakes could be just as deadly as the Rattlers, if you were careless. Luckily it was silent.

Kenny entered a minute later, carrying his saddle and the bridle slung over one shoulder. He'd left the mare outside to stand watch. Just like he'd done a hundred times before when they were camping out in the wild.

To Adam's relief, Kenny tossed him a cloth-wrapped bundle of food from his saddlebag and another canteen (water this time, Adam checked). “Eat something,” he told Adam and sat down close to the opening, but still in the shade.

“What about you?” Adam asked as he opened the bundle. He was hungry, yes, but Kenny was doing the bulk of the work.

“I'm fine,” Kenny assured him. “But I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

Adam went to the far side of the cave and sat down, leaning against the wall as he ate some bread and cheese with dried beef.

Without a word, Kenny took out a deck of cards and laid them out in front of him, setting up a game of solitaire. Despite the desolation and isolation, and the mare keeping watch, Kenny wasn't taking any chances. He drew a card and laid it down. Adam felt the air pressure change again and noted a rat running out of the cave. Whomever they were meeting, Kenny was very wary of, which meant they were extremely powerful. There was only a handful of people Adam knew of that could make Kenny that cautious.

Eventually Adam shifted his hat so the brim covered his eyes. Despite the coffin varnish, he closed his eyes, trying his best to relax and meditate. But was hard. He wanted a drink, badly.

As he listened to Kenny shuffling cards, Adam found himself revisiting the past. He never figured out why the Elite had recruited him. The Elite were just that: Elite. The best of the best. While Adam was good, he never felt he was _that_ good. And yet, they not only recruited him, they had him partner with Kenny Omega.

Kenny was an enigma. Adam knew he was from Canada, but somehow got recruited by the Pinkerton Agency, where he'd been trained to fight the supernatural. It was at the Agency that Kenny and the Young Bucks had formed their team, known as the Elite. Their job was to hunt down threats to the Union, to either recruit or, most of the time, destroy. And they were very, very good at it.

But then, for whatever reason, Kenny and the Bucks had left the Agency and headed out West on their own. Kenny never talked about his time with the Agency, but Adam had heard some disturbing rumors about his partner. Some of them were so troubling that he wasn't sure if he should believe them or not. But rumors aside, he did know Kenny was powerful enough to bring in a bounty on a monster or an undead with no help whatsoever. He was ridiculously skilled, he was stupidly charismatic, and he was arguably the best hexslinger in the world.

There was also a high probability the guy was insane.

But despite that, Kenny had treated Adam decently. He was snide at times, condescending at others, but overall, Adam felt that he and Kenny were a great team. Surprisingly Kenny seemed to feel the same way. After Adam opened up to him about his feeling uncertain about their partnership, Kenny made an effort to hang out with Adam during their downtime. Kenny didn't drink alcohol, but would drink _something_ with Adam, which Adam appreciated. And even more surprising, he often played the peacekeeper between Adam and the Bucks. Not always willingly, but despite his friendship and history with Matt and Nick, he held the peace when Adam's insecurity about the Bucks taking Kenny’s attention away from him took over.

For the first time in his life, Adam felt that he mattered, that he could be important and it was because of his partnership with Kenny. He decided he wouldn't let anyone to get between his and Kenny's partnership. They were good together, they were _powerful_. And Kenny seemed to reciprocate that feeling. But despite all their success, Adam hadn't believed it, not truly. And in the end, the thing that destroyed their partnership was Adam himself. He hadn't trusted Kenny not to let their partnership fall apart, that he would choose Adam over the Bucks. And so Adam turned to Dax and Cash to take the Bucks out of the equation.

Deep down, he'd known the former Texas Rangers were using him, but he was just so _mad_ at the Bucks, always trying to share in something that Adam considered between himself and Kenny. So using the former Texas Rangers seemed like the perfect way to get Matt and Nick out of his way. Only to have it backfire spectacularly. The rage on Matt and Nick's faces was terrible when they confronted him, and for a brief moment, he'd thought they would attack him. Instead, they tossed him out of the Elite in front of a whole crowd of onlookers. Adam's face flushed hot at the memory. He _really_ wanted a drink.

“Stop that,” Kenny said.

“What?” Adam asked, lifting his hat and squinting at Kenny.

“You should stop thinking about it,” Kenny said. He drew another card and laid it down. “I'm not going to let you have alcohol anymore. I thought you could handle it. But I was wrong.” He shrugged as he laid out another card. “So from now on, I'm going to keep a closer watch on you. And I swear every time you even think about taking a drink, I'll force coffin varnish down your throat again.”

Adam swallowed hard. That was not an idle threat.

Sighing, Kenny shook his head. “It’s my fault. I didn't realize you were so insecure. The Bucks warned me but I thought you were just playing it up to get close to Dax and Cash.”

“What are you talking about?” Adam asked, sitting up, thoroughly puzzled.

“I thought you were getting close to them because you knew their boss Tully Blanchard is Harrowed, and they would invite you in now that they think you're out of the Elite.” Kenny said with surprising patience.

Adam felt cold fingers running up his spine. Harrowed was something new in this era of Fear. When a person died, if that person had attracted the attention of an evil spirit, (or _Manitou_ as they were called by the natives) the Manitou sometimes moved in to the body and set up shop. The Manitou would often fix the body's injuries and trap the soul of the person. Sometimes it was forced, but other times a person would strike a deal with the Manitou for more power. Because despite being dead or even because of it, Harrowed were insanely tough, immune to poison, disease and most types of damage. And if it was a greater Manitou, well, they _always_ had an agenda. The outcome of which was usually a loss of life on a scale to rival a battlefield.

“Are you serious about Tully Blanchard being Harrowed?” Adam asked. “I had no idea. I was never near enough to tell.”

“I know that _now,”_ Kenny said with irritation. He scooped up the deck of cards again and shuffled them. “Look, I didn't intend for it to go down the way it did. I thought you knew about Tully, and so you’re going after the Bucks in order to get kicked out of the Elite made sense, if you wanted to get close to Dax and Cash.”

“Well obviously you thought wrong. They brought me out here and left me to die,” Adam pointed out sarcastically. He had never understood why Kenny never seemed to take the rising tension between Adam and the Bucks seriously. Now he knew. It had been a simple misunderstanding. He felt like a complete fool.

“Don't be getting all self-righteous now. By your own admission you knowingly sold the Bucks out to them simply because you were jealous. That's on you and you alone.”

Kenny had a way to saying things with equal impact as a slap to the face.

“But despite that, I can still use you. We've got word that the Inner Circle is up to something big. And if what I heard is right, that puts the former Texas Rangers on the back burner for now.”

“What did you hear?” Adam asked. It must have been really bad for Kenny to not go after a Harrowed.

Kenny was about to reply when the air vibrated slightly and they both sat up. There was a noise coming from up the ravine, horses by the sound of it. Adam reached for the sword in his saddle scabbard but Kenny put up a hand for him to wait. “Not yet. I don’t think he asked to meet me out here to try to kill me, although it is a possibility. Let’s keep this friendly for now.”

Adam came over to stand by Kenny's side. Together they stared out into the ravine. Soon, two riders came into view. With a start, Adam recognized the rider in the lead. Then he felt it, the skin-crawling feeling of the evil spirit inside a walking dead. He looked closer at the second rider. Yeah, he was Harrowed.

As the riders approached the cave, Kenny's mare materialized outside the entrance, ears flattened against her neck in warning, eyes blood red. The two riders stopped. She pawed the ground threateningly and projected vicious dread. The others' horses snorted and shied at the vengeful spirit horse.

“Not bad,” the lead rider commented, sitting easily as his sorrel mustang shook its head and tried to buck. “But we're only here to talk. You have my word.”

They waited outside in the heat for Kenny to make up his mind. Adam shifted closer so his shoulder brushed Kenny’s. “That kid is Harrowed,” he murmured.

“That so?” Kenny answered. “Intriguing.” After several heartbeats, Kenny shrugged, made a small gesture and the mare disappeared again.

The riders dismounted and led their mounts into the cave. One was as tall as Adam was, with short, reddish hair and a scruffy beard. The other, the Harrowed, was a skinny young man with a wild, wary look about him. The cave, not very big to begin with, began to feel crowded. And tense. Adam’s skin felt too tight. The sun shone down brilliantly outside. But inside it was dark and cool.

Kenny nodded coolly at the taller man. “Mox, it’s been a while.”

TBC


	4. My heart is just too dark to care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mox and his friend ask Kenny and Adam for a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even thoug this is beat'd by Kiss316, I make the final edits, so any mistakes are purely my own.

_My heart is just too dark to care I can't destroy what isn't there_

Just inside the cave, Jon Moxley took off his hat, wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve and nodded back at Kenny. “Cleaner,” he acknowledged, prompting puzzled looks from both Adam and Jon's young companion. Jon was wearing a colorful array of bruises on his face, a stained and dirty cotton shirt and trousers, over which he wore a long black duster. It would have been ridiculous to wear that in the heat of the wastelands, except for what it signified, what organization it was the symbol of. He had a revolver on each hip in an ornate gun belt. Glancing at Adam, Jon put his hat back on. “Adam Page, right? Also known as the 'Hangman'? Gotta say I'm surprised to see you here with Kenny. Last I heard you were done with being Elite and were riding with those former Texas Ranger assholes.” Jon guided his horse to the far corner where Hunter was standing. With a deeply mistrustful look at Kenny and Adam, his Harrowed companion followed, leading his horse.

Glad it was dim enough inside the cave to hide his red face, Adam winced. “News travels fast,” he muttered. Adam himself had heard stories about Jon Moxley, and the man he saw lived up to every inch of the rumored badass he was. He had an aura of toughness and confidence that Adam had never encountered before. Given the state of the man’s clothes, and the bruises on his face and neck, it was obvious Jon had been through some serious shit. But his eyes were clear and he was steady on his feet when he turned back to them.

“It was a phase, he's over it now,” Kenny was saying with exaggerated indifference and finality. Adam was stupidly grateful Kenny wasn't going to tell Moxley about him being drunk and wandering the wastelands after being abandoned by his 'friends'. “Okay Jon, you called, I answered. What’s going on that you need to talk to me out here in the middle of nowhere?” he asked. He still had a playing card in his hand.

Sighing, Jon dropped the reins, ground tying his horse. He rejoined Adam and Kenny at the cave opening but still in the shade of the overhang. “Mind if we sit down? My young friend here could use a rest,” he said, even though the young man was so agitated he was practically vibrating. But at a warning look from Jon, he reluctantly sank down to the floor next to Jon. Adam did the same, sitting across from Jon, then Kenny seated himself down next to Adam.

“Who's the Harrowed?” Adam asked, reaching back and hooking the strap on a canteen of water, offering it to their guests, both of which refused with a shake of their heads. He wasn't usually so abrupt, so blunt, but being close to a Harrowed has his skin crawling, like sandpaper grinding slowly over his nerves.

“Curious about that myself,” Kenny agreed, barely containing his own agitation. “Is he a recruit?”

“His name is Darby Allin,” Jon told them. “Picked him up a couple of days ago.” He nudged Darby's arm with his elbow, who leaned away from him and shot him an annoyed look. “Got ambushed by Taz's gang, he saved my ass.”

“How long's he been dead?” Adam asked.

The young man glared at Adam, who glared back, practically daring him to try anything. Beside him, Kenny was impatiently tapping the playing card on the ground, still held face down. He had already dismissed Darby as a threat despite being Harrowed. It was Jon that held his attention.

Jon and his long black coat.

“Not long,” Jon said pointedly. “He's still getting used to it.” The atmosphere in the cave was tense, aggravated by Kenny’s tapping card. Jon glanced at it and shook his shoulders to relax himself, his smile becoming more amused than threatening. “Settle down, this is not about the Agency, though I have it on good authority they really want you back. The reward is the highest they’ve ever offered,” Jon smirked, a predator sizing up potential prey.

Adam felt a rush of protectiveness towards Kenny and unconsciously shifted closer. If Jon tried anything...

Laughing at him, Jon said, “Relax, I ain’t here to drag Kenny back to the Agency, at least not yet.” Adam bristled but Jon continued, “But this does involve me, which means it involves them.” Jon abruptly shut his mouth, looking around. Nothing moved out there under the scorching sun. “You warded this place?” he asked Kenny, abruptly changing the subject.

“Of course,” Kenny said, in a tone that could only be described as a verbal eye-roll. “Watchdog and warning bells.”

“Both at once? Nice. Okay, here's the deal. I need help.” Jon shifted where he sat. The guy was injured, but doing a remarkable job of hiding it, but it was still noticeable if you knew what to look for.

Shaking off his surprise, Kenny was annoyed. “Then why not just go to the Agency? They’ll send you as much help as you need.”

“Cause they haven't found a replacement for _you_. And I need someone of your level to deal with this,” Jon admitted.

“And what makes you think I'd be willing to help you?” Kenny asked. There was a hint of impatience now and a playing card face down in his hand.

Quirking a grin at Kenny, Jon nodded. “You will, if you want to keep living.” Seeing Kenny’s eyes narrow and he stopped tapping the card, Jon held up a hand, palm out. “Yeah, our last meeting wasn't very pleasant, I get that. But we gotta put that behind us. You see, this is big, end of the world stuff and I am not exaggerating. We have to work together or the world is going to end,” he said, emphasizing the last five words.

“From what threat?” Adam jumped in, tired of the game Kenny and Jon were playing.

Jon and Darby exchanged looks, then Jon shrugged. “So here's the deal, a couple of weeks ago, I put Jericho in the ground.”

“We heard. Congratulations, you killed an old man,” Kenny snarked as Adam gave Kenny the side-eye. It was the Inner Circle that was somehow connected to a major relic Kenny had talked about earlier.

Visibly forcing himself to be patient, Jon continued. “Well, Jericho’s back. It was Santana and Ortiz that did it from what I gather, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Sammy’s idea. Little shit has more brains than sense. And now that he’s back, Jericho’s been recruiting some talented guys for the Inner Circle,” Jon said, straightforward.

“We knew that. Though I wouldn't exactly call Hager talented,” Adam grumbled.

“For the record I agree with you about Hager, but he is strong and a good with a gun. And now MJF has joined them. He has real potential, and with _that_ sneaky piece of shit comes Wardlow,” Jon told them.

Kenny nodded. “Again, we knew all that,” he said. “Just like you, we’ve been keeping tabs on the Inner Circle. And you still haven’t told us why you are so concerned about them.”

It was obvious that Jon was making an effort to be civil. “Well, Jericho has been building his support because he has something in mind. Something big.”

“For fuck's sake just tell us what it is,” Adam said impatiently. The Harrowed kid hadn’t said anything yet. He just sat there quietly, listening, glaring at everyone.

“All right, you want to know? Jericho clawed his way out of hell clutching Impending Doom in his grubby hands,” Jon sighed.

“Wait, Jericho has the Sword of Damocles?” Adam asked, sitting straight up. A relic, the fabled Sword of Damocles, also known as Impending Doom, was one of the most powerful ever created. Now it was in the hands of one of the most notorious gangs of the era. This was very bad. No wonder Jon was willing to come to Kenny and Adam for help. And no wonder Kenny was so interested in it.

“Yeah, Jericho never did do anything half-assed,” Kenny sighed, putting his playing card away to Adam’s surprise and concern.

Jon leaned back as if Kenny had struck a blow. He whistled softly. “You knew already? Gotta commend your sources, Cleaner. And yes, with that relic, and the rest of the Inner Circle backing his play, Jericho is probably the most powerful person in the world right now.”

For long moments, it was silent, just the sound of the wind outside the cave, blowing dust around in the ravine.

“So what's his plan?” Adam finally asked.

“Knowing Jericho, I would bet real money it’s something like setting himself up as the ruler of the world or something. The guy has an ego the size of the planet,” Kenny commented. His gaze was inward, mulling over the possibilities.

“That’s what we need to find out. We need to know what we’re up against, which why we came to your partner here. The Manitou sharing my friend's body knows but it won't talk to me.” Jon shifted again, holding back a gasp.

“So force it to talk, you know how,” Kenny told him mulishly. He leaned back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes.

Looking from Kenny to Jon, Adam desperately wanted a drink. The dislike between the two was palpable. He took a sip of water instead. But then he realized it wasn’t just dislike. Kenny was _tired_ , and desperately hiding it from Jon, who was obviously hiding injuries of his own. If those two did throw down, he wasn't sure who would come out on top.

“My talents don’t exactly lie in that direction. Yours does. If I did it my way, his soul would become disconnected from his body and left to linger here for all eternity. He doesn’t deserve that. I owe him my life and I gotta admit, I am kinda fond of his happy self.” Jon ignored the withering glare from Darby. “You know how to do it without killing him.”

Adam realized Jon wasn't as nonchalant about the situation as he was pretending. He really didn’t want to hurt Darby.

“Don't see what's so special about this guy,” Darby growled, speaking for the first time. “We're just wasting our time here.”

Kenny didn't react to that statement. He had never cared about what anyone else thought. He was still focused inward, eyes closed, as if listening to a voice only he could hear.

But Jon heaved a sigh. “Alright kid, quick lesson. You are not from the Union so you can be forgiven for not knowing how the Agency operates. Normally, the Agency steers clear of magic. They figure you can get more done with a Gatling gun. And usually they’d be right. Usually.” Jon looked down at the sleeve of his black duster, the unofficial symbol of the Pinkerton Agency. “However, there are some jobs that don’t, or go sideways and get really messy, then the Agency sends in their Cleaner. That’s when you know they mean business. Kenny here, he was their Cleaner.”

“Still don’t see what’s so great about him,” Darby muttered.

“Just take my word for it.” Jon told him with a hint of impatience, then turned to Kenny. “What do you say?”

Adam turned his head and looked at Kenny, who hadn’t moved. With what Kenny had been through the last twenty four hours, fighting a Rattler and losing his former partner, Kenny was exhausted. What Jon was proposing would be dangerous under ideal circumstances, not just to Darby but to Kenny. And these were not ideal. And the more tired Kenny was, the danger of backlash increased. He waited patiently for his partner to come to a decision only Kenny could make. If the stakes were that high…

As if feeling his gaze, Kenny opened his eyes and looked back at Adam. “Have my back?” he asked softly.

In that moment, Adam felt the trust Kenny was willing to give him. It made him feel valued. That Kenny _needed_ him as much as he needed Kenny. “Always,” Adam swore.

“Very well, I’ll do it.” Kenny turned to Darby and said, deadly serious, “I don’t know what Jon told you about this, if anything. I’m not going to remove your soul from your body completely otherwise I can’t put it back. But I need to move it out of the way to uncover the Manitou. Not even I can do that without causing you shit-tons of pain. Chances are the Manitou will force me to torture it to make it talk, and you will feel everything I do to it. Are you sure about this?”

Face pale, Darby swallowed hard but steeled himself and nodded. They all rose to their feet. Darby slipped his coat off, his rolled up shirt-sleeves exposing his bare forearms.

“Hate to have to do it this way kid, but if we don’t stop Jericho and the Inner Circle, they will fuck us all up,” Jon said to Darby. He put a hand on Darby’s shoulder and gave it a friendly shake. “Trust me, this guy knows what he’s doing. And if he fucks up, I’ll make sure his life is a living hell.” Jon stepped back, giving Kenny room to work.

Adam glared at Jon, who ignored him.

“All right, get ready,” Kenny said in a low voice. He spread his feet apart to brace himself, inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. He raised his left arm in front of his body and held his palm out to Darby. Then his eyes flashed gold and the air pressure changed. A faint silver stream of mist flowed out of his palm toward Darby, enveloping him. The Harrowed’s eyes rolled back in his head. Gradually, the soul manifested as a golden mass of light. Slowly, breathing steadily, Kenny shifted his arm just a little bit to the left, gently guiding Darby's soul just to the side of his body but not completely detaching it.

Adam had seen Kenny do terrifying things before, but this was horrifying on a whole different level. He could see Darby's skull through his skin on the left side of his face, the same with the bones on his arm. Adam shivered but held himself still, knowing not to break Kenny’s concentration.

Then Kenny raised his right hand, palm out towards Darby. Again, very briefly, Kenny’s uncovered eyes flashed gold. Darby’s body gasped and stiffened as dense black coils enclose him when Kenny closed his fist. “Ask it your question,” he instructed Jon out through tightly clenched teeth. Sweat was dripping down his temples from the strain of already being exhausted and the pressure of having to be so precise with his power while using so much of it.

“What is the Harrowed Jericho planning to do with the Sword of Damocles?” Jon asked the Manitou, from where he was standing on the other side of Kenny.

“Let me go!” shouted the Manitou in Darby's body in anger. It glared at Jon, hate twisting its features. “I won’t tell you anything!”

Wincing, Adam knew this was going to get ugly.

Kenny clenched his fist tighter and twisted his wrist making the Manitou writhe in agony. The harder it struggled the more pressure Kenny applied. Caught in the middle of battle of two strong wills, Darby’s soul writhed and jerked. Sickened, Adam wanted to look away but didn’t.

Lips pulled back in a snarl, Kenny demanded, “Tell us!”

“Fuck you, mortal piece of shit!” the Manitou screamed as it thrashed violently, desperate to break free, but Kenny’s control was too good, his power too strong. As it scream obscenities at them, Kenny abruptly jerked his fist toward his chest, making the Manitou howl in anguish. Jon swore under his breath and shifted his weight but didn’t interfere.

“TELL US!” Kenny shouted. He was sweating heavily and his right arm was shaking. He twisted his wrist holding the spirit coils again, making them tighten visibly around Darby’s skinny body.

Shrieking, the Manitou stiffened, then abruptly went limp. The coils held it upright. For several seconds it gasped and panted, then it said in a hoarse voice, “Jericho is planning to bring a Reckoner into this world.”

“That's insane!” Adam burst out. “A Reckoner? Here? It would devastate everything!” A Reckoner, something that fought the old gods and won, taking their place. And Jericho wanted to bring one into the living world? Adam felt a chill of real fear crawl up his spine.

Jon nodded, looking a bit pale himself. “Yeah, it would. Still, Jericho would need a lot of support to get it done. Sammy’s too green and I don’t think Hager has any talent beyond looking stupid.”

“But Jericho's not stupid. We know that. He’s got years of experience. He's got to have a plan,” Adam said. He moved a bit closer to Kenny, who was trembling with the effort of holding both bound soul and a Manitou.

Just then, there was a change in the air pressure and the chime of a bell, and Kenny, keeping his glare fixed on Darby, said calmly, “Adam, something's coming.”

“Fuck!” Adam surged to the opening, reaching for the gun on his hip, only to remember he was unarmed. He stopped and whirled around, intending to grab Kenny’s.

“Take this,” Jon was holding one of his revolvers, butt first, out to Adam. Gratefully, Adam took the gun and headed out into the sun, Jon on his heels.

“Where is it?” Adam asked quietly, straining to see anything hostile. But they were in the ravine and their range of vision was limited. The sun beat down like an oven. Then they heard it.

It sounded like something rattling, then it stopped. Then it started again, only to stop again. A chill went down Adam’s back when he recognized the pattern. It was slow footsteps. He looked back at the cave to see what was happening. Kenny was still holding Darby's soul, moving it back to Darby's whole body. He couldn't hurry, not with this. And until he was done, Kenny couldn’t defend himself. _“Watch my back?”_ he had asked. Adam turned and squared his shoulders. What was coming would _not_ get by him.

Jon was there at his side, listening intently. “Fuck,” he muttered, checking the load of the revolver.

“What?” Adam asked, looking desperately for something to shoot.

“I think it’s a Bone Fiend.”

“A what?” Adam asked. He’d never heard of it. But it was too late for an explanation because it came into sight from around the bend, from the direction Adam and Kenny had come. From the direction of all the bones Adam had mistakenly assumed were from dead creatures caught in a flash flood. “Oh, I see.”

TBC


End file.
